


DOMESTIC CURTAIN

by thoughtsdemise



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Chin Probing, Cuddles, Humor, M/M, Mech/Mech, Oral Sex, Self-Manipulation, Small Fire Play b/c fuel and sparks, Sticky Sex, Tickle Play, Tiny Bites of Food Incentives, Weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 17:14:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7627048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtsdemise/pseuds/thoughtsdemise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Domestic sex scene on the WAP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	DOMESTIC CURTAIN

Misfire pulls his glistening fingers from Fulcrum’s mouth.  The bomb licks at the trace of oral lube on his lips as he watches the flyer avidly.  Misfire doesn’t disappoint as he pulls the digits into his own mouth to clean them fully. His wings shiver pleasingly.  Fulcrum tenses as a straight shot of lust zips through his field brushing jaggedly against Misfire which causes the other to gasp.  Red optics widen comically at calculating gold optics that narrow and the slow smile that curls over full lips.

The bomb pounces in one smooth motion, using his momentum to shove the flyer back onto the floor.  A dark helm impacts a tail with a dull clunk.  Grimlock grumbles and slits an optic open to look at the two laid across his tail.  The pleased smug feel of Fulcrum’s field and the gasping lust in Misfire’s field makes the Dinobot sniff with a huff.  His optic remains at a low setting as he leans forward to sniff along Fulcrum’s waving aft as he settles himself between Misfire’s spread legs.  The bomb gives an indignant squawk at the press of a wide muzzle against his valve cover.

He shoots Grimlock a piercing look when the Dinobot pulls back with a chuff of a laugh and a “Dumb no animaloid mechs always in wanna face each other through floor or wall.”  Grimlock makes the space between his tail and hip wider to accommodate the heating frames.  He wiggles his toes as he rest his huge helm on the floor again, still intent on resting despite the mechs interfacing on top of him.  Not like he hadn’t had to deal with this before with Slag and Swoop when they were feeling frisky, and Sludge wasn’t around to act as a participating berth to the Dino horn-bonk fest.

Fulcrum’s optics widen but a slow smile of pleasure creeps over his face at the picking ticks he feels from Misfire’s already ready to go spike.   _ Special delivery and ready to eat, what fast service. _  The bomb notices the heated tint to the flyer’s facial derma.  He spins his small engine into a vibrating thrum and rubs his chest at the tip of the erection.

"Come on, Ful-baby.  Don’t tease me."

Fulcrum reaches for three of the spilled candies and carefully places them in between his spread digits, considering Misfire desperate request.  “Oh I don’t know, Misfire.”  He rubs his chest against the twitching spike as lubricants slide down to slither around the flyer’s exposed valve.  “I like to enjoy my dinner slightly chilled with a pacing shiver.”

The bomb lays against Misfire’s abdomen and lower chest to slide more fully against the taut cable.  The flyer whines and pushes his hips up in a small roll against the sliding chest.  He stops a moment later with a giggle as Fulcrum’ free hand mercilessly tickles at the protoform peeping out from beneath his plating.  Misfire jerks and pleads for mercy even while he humps Fulcrum’s chest.  Using Misfire’s distracted attention to his advantage, Fulcrum lowers himself and rubs the three energon candies against the flyer’s chest to create three goopy balls.

"Now, let’s see if I can make you scream as I chin-fuck you to overload."

The snort from behind him, doesn’t deter the bomb from employing the limited human speech that Misfire seemed to like in these situations.  It seems appropriate considering how messed up he planned to make Misfire in frame and mind.  The jerking giggles finally leave the flyer’s frame as he still choke-snorts looking at Fulcrum with adoring optics.

Fulcrum kisses the glistening tip of the twitching spike with a lingering lick earning a giggled moan and arch to shunt the spike into his oral cavity.  He avoids the thrust and rubs a pet over flexing abdominal plate to calm the charge rampaging through the flyer’s systems.

_ Flypet honestly has no patience when he wants to fire that engine. _

Fulcrum smiles indulgently and lowers himself fully to line up with the cycling valve.  He spears Misfire’s anterior node with the tip of his glossa before pulling back to place the balled candy onto his lips.  He glances the goopy charge carrying surface against the node and base of the spike.  Fulcrum reaches down beneath himself to grasp his own pressurized spike to jerk it twice to calm the demanding itch.

It takes a bit of flexing nudges through the dribbles of lubricant, but the bomb inserts the base of this thick chin into the flyer’s valve.  Fulcrum pulls as his spike when Misfire’s valve clamps down tightly on his chin. He waits patiently for the chilled shiver to pass from the shaking plating and the valve to loosen somewhat.

Shallowly, Fulcrum pulls his chin in and out of Misfire’s valve.  He pushes the melting ball of candy against the flyer’s sparking spike.  The sparks set small fires through the energon. The bomb moans as the little flares of flame tease over his glossa carrying the taste of Misfire’s transfluid with each dying lick within his oral cavity.  Fulcrum begins to loose himself as he nudges his chin threw the lubricants and jerks his own cord in time to that movement.  Misfire is already completely lost as the overload thunders through his systems.  Fulcrum makes a small disappointed sound but let’s Misfire ride out his overload on the thick penetrating chin.

A slick pop chases after the cooling pings of hot metal as Fulcrum withdraws his chin from Misfire’s twitching valve.  The flyer mewls and shifts his hips up to put his spike into an enticing display. The bomb smile knowingly down at the spasming frame and shakes his head no.  He jerks his erection twice before releasing it with a deep huff of a vent before he mounts Misfire’s thigh and slides the spike teasingly along the plating there.

Misfire whines, but he is still too strut-less to grab the bombformer and bend him in half as he pounds that snotty smug smile into the cobbled together floor.  A single digits tickle along the outside edges of Misfire’s valve earning a wiggle and gasp before moaning giggles sound from the jerking frame.  Each twist Misfire makes brings his thigh up to grind against Fulcrum’s thrusting spike.  Near breathless Misfire pleads for some form of mercy.

The bomb grins wanly at the tempting display the flyer makes jerking in lust filled laughter.  The remaining sticky strings of candy draw Fulcrum’s attentions as the licks his lips.  Without thinking he lunges for Misfire’s bouncing spike.  He pauses only briefly when the tip of the spike hits his intake, but he relaxes it with practiced ease.  After all he had been the best at deep intaking and he refused to give up that reputation now.

He hums his small engine as he sloppily sucks the spike.  His hips jerk against Misfire’s thigh to press his spike firmly against the plating, and his exploring fingers still tickle only at the edges of the cycling valve.  The flyer jerks four times before another overload crackles through his system. Fulcrum chokes only slightly on the spurting transfluid before succumbing to his own overload.

With a slick clinging slop, Fulcrum lets the depressurizing spike slither from his mouth.  He smiles at the hot gush of transfluid he could not fully swallow joins the valve lubricants on his chin.  He stares fuzzily at the dense lines of his own transfluid marking Misfire’s thigh and hip as well as his own narrow chest.  Fulcrum smiles longingly as the pleasant warmth settles in his spark to see Misfire near drenched in his and the flyer’s lubricants and transfluid.

"You look so beautiful, Fyre." Fulcrum churrs when the flyer smiles somewhat stupidly pleased at him.  The afterglow of two overloads clouding his processor and nothing else really on his circuits. 

Fulcrum crawls along the messy frame and slides through the mess with a shiver.  He nuzzles as against the deeply purring chest and slides coated fingers over arms and shoulders in calming pets.  Misfire kneads along Fulcrum’s sides and back.  Recharge sneaks through both systems as the mechs settle down.

The tip of a tail beats the ground as a single dull lit optic scans the entwined frames.  Grimlock releases a floor shaking rumble and settles down to recharge.  His toes wiggle as he makes himself comfortable in his dent on the floor.


End file.
